To the Ends of the Earth
by pacejunkie
Summary: When Penny saves Charlie from the Looking Glass Station, it’s a race against time to return and rescue Desmond and the rest of the survivors.


**Title:** To the Ends of the Earth

**Rating:** PG/K+

**Summary:** When Penny saves Charlie from the Looking Glass Station, it's a race against time to return and rescue Desmond and the rest of the survivors.

**Characters:** Penny, Charlie, Mikhail, Charles Widmore, Desmond

**Warnings:** spoilers through season three

**Author's Note:** This is dedicated to cylune9 for her fluffy little bunny about a time portal fic where Penny rescues Charlie. I hope it's everything you ever dreamed it would be. Also thanks to falafelfiction for her beta skills and all around moral support when I was convinced I sucked.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Don't sue.

Charles Widmore was a man who was built for a boardroom. Although not particularly tall, he held himself high, chin up and chest out, chiseled features, a commanding presence wherever he stood. On this occasion, his audience was the executive board of his charitable foundation named for Alvar Hanso, a visionary for whom Widmore had the highest esteem.

Hanso was a self made man like himself, the only type of man worth associating with. Widmore had taken over the foundation ten years prior at Hanso's personal request, when the reclusive man's failing health prevented him from continuing as chairman of the board. Widmore accepted his old friend's offer with the stipulation that the foundation continue in Hanso's name. Alvar Hanso had been touched by the gesture, but in truth Charles Widmore had desired to maintain anonymity regarding the causes he chose to support. Most assumed that Widmore's position as chairman was merely an honorary post, as were the seats of many other boards on which he was asked to serve. As a result, few knew that Widmore Industries had anything to do with the Hanso Foundation, a company that had grown under Widmore's leadership to be on the forefront of the latest scientific and sociological advances.

When he strode into his private conference room to convene with his board, Widmore wasted no time with salutations or preliminaries that social convention might otherwise demand.

"You have a report for me?" he asked Colin Perkins, the executive vice-chair.

Perkins cleared his throat and shuffled his papers. Widmore immediately took this to be a sign of bad news and he hardened his steely, unforgiving stare on the man who appeared to be shrinking before his very eyes.

"Y-yes, sir," Perkins said. "As you know, we've been monitoring Hume in the Swan Station since his arrival three years ago."

Widmore frowned at the mention of the man's name. It had taken more trouble and resources than he otherwise would have cared to devote to the disappearance of Desmond Hume, but one that he felt was well worth it nonetheless. The young Scot was as far away from his daughter Penny as he could possibly be, short of being six feet underground.

"Surely Perkins you are not here to report to me that which I already know," said Widmore.

His remark was met with nervous laughter around the table, as Perkins turned a brilliant shade of vermilion. He tugged at the collar that threatened his neck with a choke-hold.

"No sir," he replied. This was not going well at all. Perkins returned to his papers. "We were monitoring Hume up until three weeks ago when communications went down. We were unable to reestablish contacts anywhere on the island. We initiated emergency protocol and immediately suspended supply drops and were in the process of investigating when we received a distress call from the Flame Station."

Perkins flinched, delivering the rest of his report in a single breath. "We now believe that the hostiles are in control of Dharma facilities and that for some time now they may have been posing as Dharma workers."

He finished and cast his eyes downward, as if he were a child who broke his mother's best crystal. The silence consumed the oxygen in the room like a house fire.

Finally, Widmore spoke.

"Gentlemen," he said, still standing at the head of the table for he rarely took the time to be seated, "I recall that it was I who was against the Dharma experiment from the start, am I correct?"

Murmurs of "Yes, sir" rose up from around the table.

"In fact," he continued, "I had suggested that it be shut down entirely before it became a tangled mess. Now it has become nothing more than an embarrassment."

He paused to allow his admonition to sink in as the men around the table squirmed, eight pairs of eyes roving over the table, the walls and the windows, anywhere but the front of the room. No one wished to be singled out for blame.

Widmore was in his element.

Widmore Industries' investments were typically of a more down to earth nature and its charitable aims were no different. Charles Widmore considered the Dharma Initiative to be a relic from another age, a bit of utopian nostalgia that he supported out of respect for Hanso and little else. The Dharma Initiative had been Alvar Hanso's dream since the discovery of the island with its magical properties. Hanso had pushed the project forward, even when it became clear shortly after Dharma's arrival that they were not the first to inhabit the island or covet its secrets.

When Widmore took over, his immediate impulse had been to withdraw funding from the project, and that impulse strengthened with the growing threat from the group of people they eventually began referring to as hostiles. But by that time they were too deeply entrenched, and Widmore felt strongly that once one laid claim to territory, one did not yield it so easily. The Dharma Initiative had as much right to be there as the hostiles did and staying became a matter of principle. He would not be known as a man who would pull up stakes and run in the face of opposition. For its part, despite the misgivings of its more conservative successor, the Hanso Foundation had supported its namesake's vision wholeheartedly, never wavering through difficult times.

Still, while he believed that standing firm was the only possible response, Widmore had also made it clear that he wanted little to do with the project's operations and was content with periodic progress reports and allowing the foundation to handle things.

Before the silence stretched on into centuries, Perkins plucked up the courage to raise the question on everyone's minds.

"What should we do, sir?" he asked.

"For now, send a team to the island to investigate, and make sure they're armed. Continue to keep me informed," said Widmore. "What we discuss here must not leave this room. I will not have the name of Widmore Industries associated with this failure."

With much nodding of heads the meeting was hastily adjourned. Widmore returned to his office, instructing his secretary that he would take no calls for the remainder of the day. There was work to be done.

Penny Widmore's day was not turning out as she had intended. In the early hours of the morning she had been awoken by a mysterious phone call, bearing news that she had never expected but in her heart had prayed for every day for the last three years.

"_Penelope Widmore?" the caller had asked._

"_Who is this?" she asked, half asleep._

"_I'm afraid I can't tell you that, but I have information for you. I've lived with this secret for too long and I believe you have a right to know," he said._

_Penny sat up in her bed, wide awake now. "A right to know what? What is this about?"_

"_It's about Desmond Hume," the voice said. "He is alive, and your father knows this. He also knows where he is."_

_Her heart began to race and the receiver slipped slightly from her hand. It was almost too much to process at once, and yet she had to know more._

"_Can you tell me where he is?" she asked carefully, as though she were approaching a scared rabbit. _

"_I'm sorry, I can't," he said. "It's complicated…"_

_Her voice rose, exasperated, "But then why are you calling me? You must have had some reason. It's been three years. Why now?" _

"_Because he's in danger," said the man. "I suggest you find out all you can as soon as possible. Look for information on the Dharma Initiative."_

And then the line had gone dead.

Penny had written the name down and then stared at it in shock until her eyes lost focus and the curves and lines ceased to resemble letters. The words meant nothing to her but this: Desmond was alive and her father knew. _He knew._ She had conducted searches, hired investigators, used all of her resources to find him, when all this time…

She had seen her father at his most ruthless in business, had always known what he was capable of, but never had she allowed herself to believe he would use those weapons against his own daughter, to keep her from the man she loved. The truth had hit her with the force of a tidal wave and the memories came flooding back with new clarity. She thought of Desmond's time in prison, all those months when she had hated him for not writing to her, and felt the hot burn of shame. What was it to intercept a man's mail when he could be made to disappear so completely? Looking back on it now, it seemed simple and so obvious.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Penny picked up the photo on her bedside table and gazing at Desmond's carefree grin, set her mind on the more pressing concern. The caller said Desmond was in danger, and she needed to act.

She spent the rest of the morning searching the phone book, the internet, anywhere she could think of for the words _Dharma Initiative_. She had no idea what they could mean. Finally, as she drank her tea and watched the sky transition from indigo to crimson to gold, she decided that the best place to begin would be at the beginning. If her father knew of Desmond's whereabouts, the Dharma Initiative had to have something to do with him.

But another little voice inside her was telling her to keep this quiet, at least for now. The man who called was clearly in fear for his job, if not his life. Penny had her own fears; if her father knew of her suspicions he might see to it that Desmond was never found, and she could lose him forever. If there was ever a man who knew both secrets and lies, it was Charles Widmore, and Penny had learned at his knee. She would have to tread softly, confronting him only when the time was right and she had no other choice.

"Good morning Miss Widmore."

"Good morning Alice," said Penny, greeting the long time receptionist at the head of the Widmore Industries offices.

"Are you meeting with your father today?" she asked as she reached for the telephone.

"No," said Penny, quickly, waiting until the woman put the phone back down. She smiled, to cover for her nervousness. "I'm actually doing some business for him. I need to see the documents for the Dharma Initiative."

Although she had hoped the name would act as some sort of secret code, there was no recognition in the woman's face.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Is that a Widmore holding?"

Penny sighed. "That was all he told me I'm afraid."

Then the receptionist had a thought. "Well, it sounds like a charity project. Try the Hanso Foundation."

"I will Alice, thanks," she said, turning to leave the building, her long honey coloured hair flying behind her. A part of her was relieved she had struck a dead end at the offices of Widmore Industries. She wasn't prepared to run into her father quite so soon.

The Hanso Foundation ran out of a block of offices across town. She had only visited there once before when she sought information on the boat race Desmond had entered right before his disappearance. Hanso had been one of the sponsors, a connection which was looking more suspicious to Penny all the time.

Penny had always wondered why the foundation didn't move into the Widmore building when her father had taken it over but she had assumed it was because the foundation was largely independent and its employees were comfortable in their long time location. Now, hearing about the Dharma Initiative for the first time, Penny wondered if it wasn't something more. If this was truly a Hanso project and Desmond was somehow involved, perhaps it was her father who did not want the connection to his company to be known.

_Secrets and lies,_ she thought, as she entered the small reception area for the cluttered offices on the ninth floor.

She addressed the receptionist casually with the same words she had spoken to Alice at Widmore Industries – she was performing research for her father and needed to see documentation on the Dharma Initiative.

This time, however, the reaction was quite different.

The woman blanched at the name and rose out of her chair. "Yes, Miss Widmore. I understand. Right this way."

_Understand what,_ she thought, but Penny followed as if she knew perfectly well what she was looking for. This woman obviously thought she did.

She expected to be led straight to a room with files, but instead, the receptionist took Penny into the office of Colin Perkins, one of the Hanso executives. Penny's mind raced to come up with a story that would not get back to her father.

"Mr. Perkins," said the woman at the threshold to the small office. She spoke deliberately, as if transmitting meaning through her eyes as well as her voice. "Miss Penelope Widmore is here. She says she was sent by her father to see the Dharma files."

Perkins sprang out of his chair quite like the receptionist had. Penny's confusion deepened.

"Miss Widmore," he said, extending his hand, "thank you for coming. Please send our appreciation to your father for his kind assistance. Of course, our office is at your disposal."

Penny stammered. They were clearly as afraid as the man on the phone had been.

"Please," she said, "there's really no need. I only wish to see the documents on…"

"Of course, of course," Perkins said, already heading down the hall and beckoning Penny to follow, "as I said, anything you need. We are all equally concerned about the current situation and wish to see it resolved as soon as possible."

"The situation?" asked Penny, before recovering. Was this the danger the man on the phone had spoken of, that somehow involved Desmond? "Yes, I understand. If I could please have some time alone…to study everything…"

"Take all the time you need," said Perkins. As they spoke, he opened a locked room and gestured for her to enter the cramped space. There was a single wood table with a chair, rows of battered metal filing cabinets and shelves of white binders, all bearing the same odd geometric symbol. "Everything is in here. Just let Jessica know if you need anything."

Penny conveyed her thanks as the door closed. At first she thought she heard whispers outside the door but they faded before she could decipher them. Despite the strange reception she had encountered, she had gained access with far less resistance than she had expected. Now, the only challenge would be to locate information on Desmond and where to find him.

By noon, Penny had gained a vast education about the odd social experiment known as the Dharma Initiative. She was not surprised to learn that the project predated her father's involvement with the foundation; she wondered only why he hadn't pulled all funding the moment he had learned of it. Studies in parapsychology, zoology, electromagnetism…it sounded like nothing her father had ever shown interest in.

She read until her head hurt, pulling her hair back with an elastic band when she grew tired of tucking it behind her ears. Memos, handbooks, manuals… What did any of this have to do with Desmond? The most vexing part about all of it was the fact that she had been unable to pinpoint a location for these studies. All the documentation ever referred to was a place called "the island". There was no address or contact information of any kind.

Nearing the end of her search, she began to wonder if the mysterious caller wasn't someone with a personal agenda leading her on a wild chase. She had found no mention of Desmond's name and very little information on this island. Finally, she came to the last cabinet, full of rolled blueprints and plans. Losing patience, she grabbed the first scroll and unrolled it. It was a design for a many roomed structure of some kind, including living quarters, a kitchen and a computer room. Penny recognized the Dharma symbol now after hours of looking at it. The octagonal shape was printed in the upper corner and contained a silhouetted image of a Swan. She tossed the plans aside and unrolled the next one with a deep sigh.

The next set of plans were similar, but rather then a living space the blueprint appeared to be a layout for a kind of docking bay, but it was the writing underneath the drawings that caught her attention. Underneath the structure called "The Looking Glass" someone had written, _time/space portal #1 to S. Pacific location_.

_South Pacific._

It was Desmond's last known location. She will never forget that night he phoned her. He was spending the night in Sydney, Australia, about to set sail across the South Pacific, he had told her. She had tried to persuade him one last time to abandon this fool's errand; to stop trying to prove himself to her father, when all that mattered was that she loved him. He had promised her he would return a champion, and that they would be married.

That was three years ago, and it was the last time she had heard his voice. Her eyes scanned the papers once more, spread out in front of her like a roadmap. And all at once she knew, with a certainty that belied the scant evidence.

Desmond was on that island, and she had to find it.

A short while later, Penny was back in her flat, dialing the number of her search team. It had been no trouble asking Perkins if she could have the Looking Glass plans. Clearly he was under the impression that she was on some mission for her father and he was not going to stand in her way. His almost servile cooperation ceased however, when she asked him how to get to the island. Perkins apologized profusely, stating that there was already a team on its way "to deal with the hostiles" and that no one was allowed access to the island without Mr. Widmore's express consent. Penny realized she was not going to be able to gather more information without arousing suspicion, so she thanked him and left.

At least she now knew what she was looking for, but Perkins' casual reference to "hostiles" filled her with an ice cold dread. What the caller had told her was true, and there was a team on its way. She didn't know how much time she had, but it couldn't be long.

The search team she had hired shortly after Desmond's disappearance had hit a dead end within months. Neither a sailboat nor any land mass was ever discovered in the region where he was last seen. Despite having no new leads, Penny kept the team on the payroll in the hopes that new information would come along and she might need them again at a moment's notice. Finally that time had come.

"Manuel," Penny asked the time leader when he answered her call, "I've found information about an island where Desmond might be. It's in the south pacific and may have something called a time/space portal in operation. Do you know what that is?"

"I have never seen one, Miss Widmore, but I am familiar with the theory. It would allow someone to travel across long distances in an instant," he said.

"Would such a thing leave a trace or a mark that you can locate?" she asked, her hopes soaring.

"Yes," said Manuel, "electromagnetic signatures should be apparent at either end of the portal corridor."

"I want you to find where the portal begins and ends as quickly as possible," she instructed.

Penny hung up the phone and poured herself a glass of wine. Looking down at the blueprints with Desmond's photo on top, she felt closer to him than she had in the last three years, as if he stood reaching out to her just on the opposite side of a curtain that hung between them.

"Soon, love," she said, raising her glass, "very soon."

Two days later, Penny's phone rang. It was another late night call, but this time, she had anticipated it.

"Miss Widmore, I think we found it. There is evidence of a time/space anomaly in the south pacific that matches another we have located in Portland, USA," Manuel reported.

Penny was elated. "Were you able to find an island near the anomaly this time?"

"We're sorry but no," he said. "Somehow the coordinates of the island are being blocked. We have no way of knowing where it is apart from the time/space portal, but clearly it travels to somewhere."

Penny was certain that she knew where – to the Looking Glass station on the island. If she couldn't find the island, perhaps she should start at the other end, in Portland. She asked her crew leader for coordinates on the Portland location.

"We checked the coordinates and it would appear that the portal begins at the offices of a research laboratory called Mittelos Bioscience," he told her, reciting an address.

She thanked him and put the phone down. Penny began to think. She couldn't just walk in there and ask to use their portal. She would need a cover story, but it would help if she knew who Mittelos Bioscience was and how they fit into all of this. Perhaps they were a rival group of scientists. Could they be the hostiles her father was so concerned about? There was one way to find out.

_You're inside a room full of equipment. There's a blinking yellow light, above a switch...you flick the switch...light goes off...and you drown._

_Why are you here,_ they asked him, over and over, words repeating in a throbbing pulse that matched the ache in his head. Did it matter if they knew? If this was his destiny then Charlie was going to complete his mission no matter what happened. He might as well tell them then at least the punches would stop. It was sheer luck that they hadn't broken any bones yet. Desmond hadn't mentioned anything about armed women and torture, although it would have been nice. Charlie wouldn't have minded the heads up.

"I'm here...to turn off your jamming equipment. It's in there next to the flashing yellow light," he said.

He was holding them off talking until that one eyed freak showed up, the one they had met in the jungle that Charlie said Desmond should have killed. _Why doesn't anyone ever listen to him?_ It was the women who were paying the price of their mercy now, because Mikhail shot them both in cold blood.

Charlie was suddenly wishing he was back to being punched.

Desmond emerged from his cupboard and hit the Russian bastard point blank with a spear gun. Charlie shouted not to kill the blonde one. They needed her, he said. He had to get the code to turn off the jamming signal. Then the helicopter would come, and Claire and Aaron would be rescued and taken far, far away from killer smoke and wild polar bears and psychos who kidnap and kill… The thought gave Charlie the strength to do what he knew he must, even if meant his own life.

"Bonnie," he said, leaning over the woman who ironically moments ago had wanted Charlie to die a slow, painful death. She didn't seem to be having such a pleasant time of it herself. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes glassy. Blood poured from the exit wound in her chest. "Let's just get this over with. Okay? What's the code?"

After a bit of persuasion and several failed attempts to recite a long list of apparently random numbers, she finally whispered, "Beach Boys…Good Vibrations…On the keypad...numbers. They're notes. It was programmed by a musician."

It was then that Charlie knew. This really was his destiny after all.

Penny spent the entire flight rehearsing her story, but it was like a damaged raft that kept springing leaks the more holes she attempted to patch. By the time she arrived in Portland, she abandoned her elaborate charade and decided to go with the direct approach, as honest as she could manage while still protecting her interests.

Mittelos Bioscience sat on a sprawling, wooded campus on the outskirts of Portland. It looked more like a small university than a laboratory. Penny didn't know if her hunch was correct, but if it was, she had a feeling they would be more than willing to assist her.

She entered through the lobby and spoke to the receptionist in a hushed, urgent tone, "Excuse me, my name is Penelope Widmore. I need to speak with one of your head researchers on a matter of importance. Is someone available?"

Several minutes later, after assuring the woman at the desk that it was a personal matter but extremely urgent, Penny was introduced to Gregory Keans, a handsome man about her age with a broad smile well suited for public relations.

"Miss Widmore," said Keans, "how may I assist you?"

They were still seated in the very public lobby, so Penny kept her voice low and hoped that at some point, the information she had would merit a private room.

"I was hoping that we could assist each other actually," she began. "I have reason to believe that your researchers in the south pacific are in great danger."

Penny watched Keans carefully for his response, a twitch or a flicker in his eyes that might give something away. His smile faded only slightly, and to her surprise, he gave no response at all.

"You do have researchers currently in that region?" she asked, hoping like mad her hunch was correct and she wasn't making a complete fool of herself. This was the only lead she had.

He must have come to some internal decision because Keans finally responded in full voice as if announcing it to the room, "Would you please come with me? I'm interested in hearing more of what you have to say."

Penny accepted his signal and rose to follow. They did not speak again until they were behind closed doors. In the small office, Keans closed the door and then turned on her, "What do you know about the island Miss Widmore?"

Penny was a bit taken aback at the man's candor, but also relieved that she had not come all this way for nothing. It was now her turn to decide how much information to reveal.

"I know that a ship has been sent to put down a rebellion, a conflict with the Dharma Initiative. Are we speaking of the same island?"

"We may be," he responded.

"Well in that case, we may be able to help each other," she said. "I know who sent that ship, and I can stop it, but I need to get to that island. Can you get me there?"

"If you know anything at all about the island you know that accessing it is not so simple," said Keans. "There are a limited number of ways to reach the island."

"Would the time/space portal be one way?" she asked.

Keans stared. "How did you know about that?" he asked.

"I told you, I know about the Dharma Initiative," she said. "They built the portal didn't they? But it begins here, from this location. Why?"

Keans skirted her question. "The portal is unstable. It hasn't been used in years. Traveling through it would be extremely risky. I might suggest we make contact by satellite transmission to see if our people are all right, but communications have been down for weeks."

"Can we try?" she asked.

The slight quiver in her voice must have given her away because Keans' eyes narrowed. "Why are you so concerned about our scientists?" he asked.

Penny sighed. "I'm searching for someone, and the same danger that is coming for your researchers may be after him as well."

Keans nodded and beckoned her to follow him. She was led into a small control room with switches and monitors. To the right of the control panel was an even smaller chamber, sealed off by a heavy metal door.

Penny looked around. "This looks like a communications room," she said. "Where's the portal?"

Keans pointed to the sealed chamber. "That's it over there, but like I said it's no longer operational."

Keans took a seat at the instrument panel while Penny sat near the monitors, taking everything in. "Does this mean they'll be able to see as well as hear us?" she asked, pointing to the screen in front of her.

"That's assuming there is anyone there who can answer our call even if we get through," said Keans, as he turned a complex series of dials. "We've been out of touch with our people for some time."

"Then how are you able to get to the island?" she asked, but before Keans could answer, a light started flashing under the monitor in front of her.

"What is that?" Penny asked, pointing to the light.

"It means the channel is open," he said, surprised.

Penny was so excited she looked straight into the snowy image on the monitor and began speaking even before the picture clarified. When it did she saw a young man with a mess of blonde hair who looked as though he had been in a fight.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" Penny tried.

"Yes. Yes I can hear you," he said grabbing the microphone in front of him, appearing rather as shocked as she was to be speaking to someone.

"Who is this? Who am I speaking to?"

"Charlie uh...Charlie Pace. I'm...I'm a survivor of Flight 8-1-5...Oceanic Flight 8-1-5."

_What was he talking about?_ Perhaps she had intercepted a distress call from some other location. "Uh...where are you?" Penny asked the strange young man who seemed to be using all his energy to keep himself in his chair.

"We're on an island," he announced, almost triumphant. "We're alive."

"An island?" she repeated, "Well where? What's the location?"

"I don't know," Charlie said. "Who's this?"

"This is Penelope. Penelope Widmore. How did you get this frequency?"

The man's eyes widened at the sound of her name. He turned away from the monitor and began to shout. "Desmond?! Desmond?!"

Penny's heart skipped a beat. "Did you just say Desmond?"

Charlie smiled again. "Yeah. He's here. He's with me."

She could hardly believe it. Could she have found him, after all this time fearing he was dead? All at once she longed to see his face, to have step in front of the camera so she could be sure, and to see his expression when he realized she had not given up on him.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"He's brilliant!" Charlie shouted. "Hey? Are you on the boat?"

In her ecstasy, she had forgotten everything else. "What? What boat?"

"Your boat. 80 miles off shore. Uh...Na...Naomi...parachutist," he stammered.

"I'm not on a boat," she said, but fear began rising in her throat as she recalled the ship sent by her father. She needed to know everything. "Who...who's Naomi?"

Before he could answer her, he was interrupted by some sound. Penny watched as Charlie spun in the opposite direction of when he had called for Desmond. Whatever he saw caused all colour to drain from his face.

Penny tried to reestablish contact but it had appeared that Charlie had either forgotten about her or they had lost audio. Something was causing Charlie to panic. Penny started to panic along with him. She could feel her connection to Desmond fast slipping away.

"Hello," she cried. "Hello is Desmond there? Desmond, can you hear me? Desmond?"

Penny turned to Keans in desperation who had watched the entire exchange. He appeared as helpless as she. Penny returned to the monitor and looked on in horror as Charlie ran from the frame and then a torrent of water rushed past in his direction.

"Can you hear me?" Penny cried one last time. She turned to Keans. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," he said. "It looks like there's been a breach. The room is flooding."

She saw the water rising in the room and hoped that Charlie had run out in time. Those hopes were dashed when seconds later Charlie came floating backwards onto the screen. The room now resembled a fish tank. He was still conscious, arm moving up and down as if crossing himself, but was clearly drowning.

"Oh my God," breathed Penny. "He's drowning." She turned to Keans. "I can't lose him. Please, activate the portal! Get him out of there!"

Keans protested. "I told you, it's risky. I can't promise he'll get here in one piece."

"If we don't do anything he's dead anyway!" _And so was her only link to Desmond_, she thought. "Do it!"

Keans turned back to the control panel and flipped some switches. The equipment seemed to come to life, flexing its muscles with a series of whirrs and pings. She looked back at the monitor and saw that Charlie had relaxed completely and now appeared lifeless in the water. She prayed they weren't too late. Then there was a bright flash on the screen and his image began to fade. She rushed to the portal chamber and looked in through the round window. He wasn't appearing yet, but he was growing more faint on the monitor, fading away like smoke. The next moment it appeared as if he was fully back in the flooded room.

"Is it working?" she asked Keans.

Keans shook his head. "I can't seem to grab him. His pattern keeps slipping. I think it's the water…"

He continued turning dials as Penny watched. She had come so close, so close. Desmond might have been only a foot away, just out of range of the camera. _He might be drowning too._ Penny pushed the thought out of her mind and hung on to Charlie's words that he was fine and prayed harder for Kean's efforts.

Then Charlie vanished from the monitor altogether.

Penny looked back into the chamber and there he was…and then he wasn't. Like a television with poor reception Charlie kept flickering in and out. She held her breath. Even if they managed to transport him he could be nothing but a corpse. The body that was fluctuating upright in the chamber before her was clearly unconscious, suspended in mid air as though he were still in water. He looked as if he were hanging on an invisible rope. Penny now understood what Keans had meant when he said the portal was unstable. She would be unable to get to the island this way.

There was a momentary surge and then Charlie appeared fully and quite solid, only to vanish once more. Penny's whole body felt clenched tight from the tension as she willed him to appear. When he did it was in parts – his legs, half his head, and then an arm, then he disappeared again, but this time he did not appear on the monitor either.

Her eyes welled with tears. They were losing him. She turned to Keans, expecting to see that he had given up but he was still hard at work at the controls, like a man who refused to recognise a lost cause when he saw one. She watched him working frantically until the whirring stopped and there was a dull distant thud that sounded as if the machine had shut down. Then all was quiet.

She stepped slowly towards Keans, shocked over what she had just experienced, what they had done. Desmond was there, on that island and in that room. He was there, but had slipped right through her fingers like jelly, and her only link to the island was now severed.

Keans was hunched over the silent instrument panel, breathing heavily. She came to a stop directly behind his chair and waited for him to turn and face her. When he did, Penny expected to hear an apology and some expression of anguish.

Instead, when he turned to face her he was smiling.

"I got him," he said.

"_What_?" said Penny. She ran back to the chamber. That thud she had heard was not the equipment.

There he lay.

Penny opened the chamber door and knelt beside the body that was now sprawled on the floor in a small puddle of water, soaked to the skin. She was prepared to perform CPR but to her surprise when she leaned in she could hear his slow breathing. She turned to Keans who stood at the threshold behind her.

"He's breathing," she said. "I don't understand. We saw him drown."

"Its part of the instability of the portal," explained Keans. "It must have brought him back a few minutes earlier, to a time just before he drowned. I guess the malfunction worked in our favour this time."

Penny felt for a pulse. It was a bit erratic, fluttering in and out much the way his body had done on transport. "If that's the case then what's wrong with him?" she asked. "Why is he unconscious?"

"It's a bumpy ride Miss Widmore. That was no pleasure cruise he just took. Think of it like jet lag times a thousand. He's going to need some time to recover."

"But he _will_ recover?" she asked.

"I think so," said Keans, but his voice sounded anything but certain. "We have lost people through the portal but the results are usually a bit…messier."

Penny looked at Charlie one more time as if to assure herself that he was indeed alive. "Do you have private transport here?" she asked Keans.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"I would like him to be moved discreetly to my hotel suite." When Keans looked puzzled she said, "I assume he isn't one of your people? He said he was the survivor of a plane crash."

"I don't know who he is," confirmed Keans. "As far as I'm concerned you can have him. But you said you were going to help our scientists."

"And I shall," promised Penny. "But I need to speak with him first when he awakens. He knows the man I'm looking for. I'll leave you my number where you can reach me. I'll be staying here in Portland."

Keans called in some assistants to fulfill Miss Widmore's request. Once she and the man were removed and off the premises, he returned to the control room. He could tell by the instruments that there was another individual requesting transport, but he kept it quiet until the woman had gone. When he was ready he called for security as a precaution and activated the controls.

It was tricky, but not as difficult as the first had been. Kean completed the transport and called for the guards to move in. They approached the chamber door, guns raised. The guard in front reached for the handle and opened the door.

Keans looked in and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Lower your weapons," he ordered.

"A wise precaution," said the man who emerged from the chamber. He was a bit unsteady but otherwise whole as he walked past the guards. He was wearing diving equipment which he began to remove.

"Mikhail," said Keans. "What are you doing here? No one's supposed to use this transporter…"

Mikhail raised his hand to silence the man. "I have instructions from Benjamin. The island is under imminent assault and we are to protect it by any means necessary."

"Well I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing Mikhail, but I already know that," said Keans. "The woman who was just here, she told me there was a ship heading to the island and that our people are in danger."

But Mikhail was not listening. "What happened to the man that transported here before me?"

"He left with that woman I told you about," said Keans. "What is this about? Who are they?"

"Ben has ordered me to kill that man," said Mikhail. "The woman cannot be trusted. The man that was with her was trying to bring rescue to his people. The island must not be found. You know this. There can be no rescue. They must be stopped. Tell me where they are."

Keans reached into his pocket and handed Mikhail the card with Penny's hotel number on it. "What are my orders?" he asked.

Mikhail smiled. "Investigate reports of this ship. I will take care of the woman and young man."

Charlie didn't awaken until evening, by which time Penny had extra clothes purchased for him including a pair of trainers, since he appeared to have lost his shoes, and had everything sent to the room. She also put a call in to Oceanic Airlines, where she was informed that flight 815 did indeed crash three months ago while en route from Sydney to Los Angeles but that all of the victims' bodies were recovered. _I'm sure that would be news to Charlie,_ she thought. He certainly had been determined to proclaim himself alive to her. He couldn't possibly have been deceiving her about who he was.

And he said he knew Desmond.

Penny worked the puzzle over and over. Either this island had the ability to bring people back from the dead or someone wanted these people to disappear, along with her Desmond. The plights of Desmond and the crash survivors were so similar she refused to believe it was a coincidence. The fact that they knew each other only deepened the mystery. What was this island about, and why were so many people determined to keep it and its inhabitants a secret?

She knew that Keans knew more about the island than he was telling her, that much was obvious. With the portal not functioning, there had to be another route to the island, one that was more routinely traveled. Penny recalled how Keans cleverly avoided answering any of her questions regarding the island's location or how to access it. She would have to work on getting that information. She would insist on it, if he was going to expect her help.

Charlie was in bed in the adjoining room, asleep in a hotel bathrobe, his clothes sent to the laundry service. Penny went in when she heard the rustle of the sheets and a low moan.

"Charlie?" she said, pulling up a chair.

He opened his eyes slightly, and brought his hand up to his head.

"Where am I?" he groaned.

"That's a bit difficult to explain," she said. "But you're safe, and you're with me. Do you remember who I am?"

He squinted at her, and then closed his eyes again. "Penny," he said.

She smiled. It was true. She hadn't imagined it.

"I feel sick," he said.

"I think that's to be expected," she said. "We had a hard time getting you here."

"What are you talking about? Getting me _where_?" He lifted his head just slightly and looked around. "Where are my clothes?"

"I sent them out to be cleaned," she said. "I also bought you some new ones. I think you're going to need them."

But Charlie wasn't listening. He appeared to be concentrating deeply, trying to put the pieces together on his own. The more he recalled the more the panic seemed to set in. "I opened the channel…so we could call for rescue…is that it? Were we rescued? No, that can't be right. I was drowning. I _died_." He sat up quickly and grabbed her wrist, but from the pain in his face it seemed as if he regretted it instantly. "Where's Desmond?" he pleaded.

"Charlie slow down," said Penny, releasing his grasp and easing him back down. "I know this is frustrating for you but I have questions of my own. I promise to tell you everything I know, but you need to hear me out first. Can you do that? Are you hungry? I can get you some tea…"

"Real tea?" he asked, incredulous. "Now I know we were rescued. But I thought I was dying."

"Well you would have done," said Penny, "but we activated the time/space portal and got you out of the flooded station…"

"You what?" he asked, more confused than ever. He sat up more slowly this time, wincing from the effort. "A time space _what_? Where the bloody hell am I?"

"You're in Portland, Oregon. It's in the States," she said.

"I must be dreaming," he muttered. "I'm dead and you're some kind of vision."

"I'm afraid not," she replied.

He looked at her, "And I suppose you're going to tell me I just…beamed over here like Captain Kirk?"

Penny smiled. "Something like that."

"Really?" he asked. "I was just joking." He looked down at his arms and legs as if to be certain he was really there. "I can't believe this. I'm really alive? I must be because I feel awful."

Penny couldn't help but laugh, and then asked the question she had been anxious to ask. "You mentioned Desmond. Was he with you?"

She couldn't tell if Charlie had heard her. It was like he was staring through her, a million miles away, perhaps back in that flooded station, still trying to make sense of it all.

"Charlie, please," she begged, forcing eye contact to bring him back to attention.

"Desmond! Yeah," he said, as if suddenly remembering. "He was in the station, but he was okay though, at least the last I saw he was. You're his Penny, the one from the photo. He showed it to me. Have you been looking for him all this time?"

"He disappeared at sea three years ago. At first I believed it was an accident but recently I came to learn that my father may have been behind it. My father's a very powerful man and he didn't support our relationship," she stopped her tangent before it became too personal and started again with a new topic. "You said you were in a plane crash?"

"There were forty of us," he said. "We were there for three months, hoping someone would find us…"

He lay back down and trailed off again, and as he did Penny noticed the curious black marks on his palm. She reached over and lifted his hand and Charlie looked too as if noticing it for the first time. She gaped at the words 'Not Penny's Boat' clearly scrawled across his palm. Seeing her name on this stranger's skin had the effect of forming an odd connection between them, as if their destinies had become joined. It was strange and almost intimate.

"Wait…we need to get back there," said Charlie, pulling his hand back and breaking the silence. "They're all waiting for rescue. If that's not your boat than whose is it?"

"It's been sent by my father to fight a group of people they call the hostiles," she explained.

"That's what Desmond called them. We called them the Others. Well to be honest I wouldn't mind seeing those bastards get what's coming to them. They made our lives a living hell. So what's the problem? Can't your father's people rescue us as long as they're there?" he asked.

Penny noticed how Charlie said 'us' as though he still required rescue, or considered himself some inseparable part of a group.

"You don't understand," she sighed. "The island is being used as some kind of secret laboratory. I don't think they want anyone to find out about it."

"And if we're brought back to civilization it won't be a secret anymore," said Charlie, nodding.

"I was led to believe that Desmond was dead when all this time he's been on that island," she said. "Then your plane crashes and its made to disappear as well. There's no one even looking for you. They think the bodies were all recovered. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to make sure you're never found. Do you see? They're not coming to rescue you."

Charlie went silent again, but this time it seemed as though he was taking in her words, the scope of the situation finally settling on him like an enormous weight.

"If that's the case then we're going to have to do it ourselves, aren't we?" he said. "We need to get to the island before that ship does."

He was horribly thin, so Penny wasn't surprised that Charlie's first impulse was to order one of everything off the room service menu for dinner. He explained about living off of mainly fish and mangoes while they ate. As they got to know one another, Penny decided that she liked him. He was warm and funny, and his three month deprivation combined with his near death experience caused him to develop a childlike fascination with everything, as if he were a caveman thawed from a block of ice. After witnessing Charlie's unrestrained glee over the simplest things from a shower to a light switch, Penny decided she would never take things like soft beds and warm towels for granted again.

They stayed up late going over what they knew but their options were limited. They couldn't go to Hanso or Widmore Industries, so their only means of access to the island was with the help of Mittelos Bioscience. Penny had promised Keans she would help them, and she had meant it. If they provided her with safe passage to the island and rescue for their people, she would see that the attack was called off. By that point she would have to confront her father and make him understand.

Retiring to their rooms at nearly 2 am, Charlie was surprised to find that despite having slept much of the day, he felt weary, like he was recovering from flu. _Still not over my trip into hyperspace,_ he assumed, but thankful to be alive nonetheless. He crawled into bed and went to sleep with little trouble.

His wake-up call came in the form of a hand around his neck.

Charlie gasped as he felt his airway close and his eyes shot open. A figure in shadow was pressing his weight on top of him. The only light came from a glint of sharp steel to his left.

"Did you honestly think you could escape me?" whispered a heavily accented voice. "I will follow you to the ends of the earth to kill you."

Charlie reached up to grab the wrist that held the knife and tried calling out but only the smallest of ragged sounds escaped his constricted throat. He kicked up and tried to roll over but Mikhail was far too strong, Charlie couldn't throw him off. He channeled his efforts into resisting the knife, but his arm was bending against his will. Charlie felt himself losing the battle when another shining object flashed across his visual field and he heard a sharp crack as a lamp came down on Mikhail's head and the knife fell from his hand onto the sheets.

Penny's blow wasn't enough to knock him unconscious but it distracted him long enough for Charlie to grab the cord from the lamp and get it around Mikhail's throat as the man turned to face Penny. He twisted the cord and pulled back and as he did Penny hit Mikhail full in the face with pepper spray. He howled and convulsed and Charlie let go. When he hit the floor, Charlie pinned him down with his knees.

"Get something to tie him up with!" he shouted.

Penny ran back into her room and returned with a handful of silk scarves. Charlie used one to bind his wrists tightly behind his back and another for his ankles. As he worked she turned on the light to see their intruder. The man had a scarred, pockmarked face and wore an eye patch. He looked like he had seen battle.

"Are you all right?" she asked Charlie.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, his knee on Mikhail's back. "It looks like you have a habit of rescuing me. Not that I mind."

"Who is he?" she asked.

Charlie grabbed Mikhail by the hair and turned his head to face Penny, yanking hard for good measure. "This ugly wanker is one of your hostiles. He's the one that tried to kill me in the station. His name is Mikhail. What do you think? Is he hostile enough for you?"

"Why does he want to kill you?" she asked.

"I wondered that myself, but it makes more sense to me now if they want the world to think we're dead. It seems your father and these blokes have something in common. They've all got secrets to protect and it has to do with the island," said Charlie.

"You will never bring rescue to the island," said Mikhail.

"Shut up," said Charlie. "We've just caught an intruder. We're within our rights to kill you. Since you don't exist anyway, no one's going to miss you. How about we toss you over the balcony and see if you bounce?"

"Charlie, wait," said Penny, thinking.

He turned to her. "What?"

"Let's talk for a minute," she said, motioning to the next room. "In there."

Charlie looked puzzled for an instant and then relented, tying Mikhail's hands to the bed frame to secure him. He then pocketed the knife, rose and followed Penny.

Penny began, keeping her voice low to not be overheard, "Charlie we need him. Mittelos' people are the only ones with access to the island."

"Penny you can't trust him," said Charlie. "You don't know what they've done to us. For three months we were terrorized. They took all the children from the plane, attacked us in our tents, they're animals."

"That may be," she said gently, "but we have no choice. It's the only way to rescue our friends."

"Did you hear him?" argued Charlie. "He's not going to let anyone be rescued."

"He may have to, if he wants to avoid what's coming. They won't be able to defend themselves without my help. We can bargain," she explained.

Charlie sighed but said nothing. He sat on the bed and hung his head. Penny waited. Finally he spoke.

"There's this girl called Claire. She was on the plane with us. I met her after we crashed. She was eight months pregnant at the time, and all alone. I looked out for her, kept her company when she was scared. She had her baby on the island, a little boy. Aaron. The Others, they kidnapped her, tried to take her baby from her, scared her to death. We were all scared, all the time. I promised her I'd protect her and the baby. So when they needed someone to swim down to the underwater station and unjam the signal so we could call for help, I said I'd do it, even though I knew I might not survive. I was willing to die so they could be safe. We thought that boat offshore was there to rescue us."

Penny had to fight back tears at Charlie's story. She tried to imagine him as the self proclaimed protector of a young single mother and had a hard time picturing it. He seemed so unlikely, yet she could tell he had a good heart and found his nurturing instincts sweet. Penny had heard his story, but in truth she couldn't imagine the horrors he had experienced on the island at the hands of these people.

She would understand if he refused to work with Mikhail, but it would make their task much more difficult. She came closer and put a hand on his shoulder while Charlie agonized over his decision. He looked up at her touch. For the first time, Penny noticed the smattering of light scars and fresh bruises on his face and wondered what had caused them.

"I can't live with the knowledge that I might have put them in more danger," he said to her. "Claire and Aaron are still there, while I escaped. That's not right. I need to get them off that island. If it means joining forces with the man who tried to kill me twice then that's what I have to do."

Penny drew her arm fully around his shoulder and sat down. "They won't hurt your friends again. I'm going to see to it."

Charlie smiled and then looked away in a shy gesture. He turned back to her and said, "Desmond saved my life on the island, more than once. He's a good man. He carried your photo with him everywhere. Leaving you behind was the biggest regret of his life. All he ever wanted was to see you again."

"And he shall," she said, touched by his kind words. "We're going to rescue them all."

They returned to the room where Mikhail lay still bound to the bed frame. Penny leaned down to address him while Charlie stood behind her, holding the man's knife.

"Listen to me," she said. "Your people are in greater danger than you know. If you help us, together we can save everyone. The plane survivors are not the threat. The threat is coming from Widmore."

"How do you know this and who is Widmore?" asked Mikhail.

"My father," said Penny, answering both questions at once. "They're coming for revenge for what your people did to the Dharma scientists."

"Why would you be working against your father?" he asked.

Penny paused, reluctant to give away information that Mikhail could use against them. "There are people on the island who have nothing to do with the conflict and we want them safe."

"What could this Widmore have done to turn his own daughter against him?" wondered Mikhail aloud.

"Nevermind that," said Penny, "We'll help you defeat them in exchange for the lives of the survivors of flight 815 and Desmond Hume."

After a long day negotiating a difficult acquisition, Charles Widmore returned to his office and indulged in a drink. He was looking out of his window at the London twilight when he received a call from his secretary. The Hanso Foundation had called, she said, and are ready to convene with their latest report.

A short while later he was back in his private conference room. Perkins sat in his usual seat but this time Widmore chose to take his place at the head rather than stand. He wanted to hear everything the board had to say and consider his response carefully, and that required his full attention.

"What is the status of our ship?" he asked.

Perkins delivered the report. "The ship is reporting that their scout, Naomi Dorrit, was lost when her helicopter crashed over the ocean, but a few days later they received a communication from someone claiming to be a survivor of Oceanic Flight 815. He says there are forty of them and they desire rescue."

This was a most unfortunate development. Making one man disappear, that was one thing. But how was he to silence dozens of crash survivors? The idea of keeping this failed experiment a secret was becoming more unlikely all the time, and he felt the tension returning that the whiskey had so recently washed away. This would require more brutal action.

When Widmore failed to respond Perkins continued, feeling that he was expected to say more. "We weren't expecting castaways on the island. What should be done about them when our team gets there?"

Widmore's expression never broke. If he was the only man in the room with the guts to do what must be done then so be it. "Desmond Hume must be located and killed. The Dharma facilities must be reclaimed so that all evidence of their existence can be destroyed. I want the hostiles put down and no one left alive to bear witness."

"But sir," said Perkins, "do you mean…"

He looked Perkins straight in the eye. "You have my orders. There must be no rescue."

There would be no getting back to sleep that night with a prisoner tied up on the floor. As if the rude awakening wasn't enough, Charlie found that as tired as he felt he must still be on crazy-island-in-the-south-pacific time so sleep was no longer an option. He offered to stand guard so Penny could catch a few hours before daybreak but she declined. She was too shook up by their intruder to sleep.

While they waited for morning Penny explained her plan. She believed that Mittelos had another, safer method of transporting to the island than the route Charlie took.

"The blueprint for the Looking Glass Station was marked 'portal #1'," she told him. "That means there must be another, and perhaps even a third."

"If there is it would be a perfect way to get everyone off the island quickly as well," said Charlie. "But will they let us use it?"

"They will if Mikhail gives the order, I suspect," she said, looking over at their dozing captive.

"In that case he'll need the proper motivation," said Charlie.

A swift kick to the ribs and Mikhail was awake. "Oi. Cyclops. Time to get up," said Charlie.

Mikhail, still tied to the bed, pushed himself up by his elbow to sit and looked up at his captor. "Where are we going?"

"We're taking you back to your mates," Charlie said, "and you're going to tell them to let us use their portal, the one that works. We're going to use it to get our people off the island."

"And why would I do that?" he asked.

Charlie knelt down close until he could almost smell the man's breath. "Because if you don't, Miss Widmore will see to it that her father's commandos storm that beach and slaughter each and every one of you. It's no more than you deserve."

"If that happens your people will be caught in the crossfire," he noted calmly. "You don't want that ship to arrive any more than we do. So again I must ask - why should I help you?"

"If we're going to stop that ship, we need to get to the island don't we?" said Charlie. "You don't have to promise us anything else for now, but take us to that portal and we'll take care of the rest."

Mikhail thought for a moment, and then responded. "I will take you, but I will be traveling along. First you will stop that ship from attacking, and then we will discuss your people."

Charlie relented, figuring it was the most he was going to get for the time being. They would have to take things one step at a time, but at least they were headed in the right direction. They had to stop that ship. He could scarcely believe he was going back to the one place he had only wanted to escape for three months. He hoped they were doing the right thing and that Penny had any kind of influence over her father to make a difference.

When it was time they untied Mikhail and took a taxi back to Mittelos, Charlie reminding the Russian that he still had the man's knife so he shouldn't try anything.

The trip was tense and silent. With Mikhail sitting between them there was little they could discuss. Charlie watched the world pass by his car window, quite literally trapped behind glass, able to see the tantalizing civilization that lay beyond but unable to partake just yet.

They entered the lobby and Mikhail led them straight to Greg Keans' office. Keans looked surprised to see the three of them. _He must have expected we'd be dead by now,_ Charlie thought.

"Mikhail," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"They know about the second portal," said Mikhail, "They require transport to the island to stop the Dharma ship."

Charlie watched the Russian carefully as he spoke, noticing that he did not blink once. Then Mikhail added, articulating each word clearly, "You will follow my orders."

Keans stared back for a moment and then responded, "Yes, I understand. This way."

They were taken to a small bright control room that appeared well used and stocked with clutter. Penny was appalled. She turned to Keans. "You deceived me. You had a working portal and yet you took me to the one that was unstable. Charlie almost died."

"I'm sorry," Keans said, "but we have a right to protect our secrets. We were only intending to open a communications channel that day. I had no idea we were going to use the portal for an emergency transport."

"How do we know this one works?" asked Charlie.

"I can show you our transport logs," said Keans, "beyond that I would have to say that if you want us to trust you you're going to have to trust us."

Penny and Charlie looked at one another. It had to be reasonably safe for Mikhail to be willing to go along. He also thought of Claire and wondered if Penny was thinking of Desmond. They were both still on that island, in danger, along with nearly forty others. There really was no choice to make.

"Are you ready?" Charlie asked her. Penny nodded. They turned to enter the chamber when Charlie felt an unfriendly hand on his arm.

"Leave the weapon," said Mikhail.

Charlie glared at Mikhail, removed the knife from his pocket and left it on the table across the room. Then he walked back to join Penny. Along with Mikhail they walked into the portal chamber and closed the door.

It felt claustrophobic and stuffy. Charlie wasn't awake for his last transport so he had no idea what to expect apart from the unpleasant aftereffects. He looked at Penny, who appeared to be holding her breath, quite as nervous as he was. Then there was a white flash and everything went blurry. He could no longer feel solid ground beneath his feet and the sensation caused him to feel dizzy, like he might fall over. He tried to put out his hands to steady himself but he was unsure of where his limbs were. He wished he could tell if Penny was still there but it was as if he was trapped in a bubble in space, where there was no top or bottom, beginning or end. Just when he began to have difficulty breathing he was gaining his equilibrium again and the image before his eyes changed. The room was darker, and the chamber door rusty and battered.

Everything was just coming into focus when an elbow came up and smashed him across the face. He was so disoriented he went down easily, hitting the wall of the chamber on the way, hearing Penny's shout somewhere in the infinite distance.

Penny was trying to fight Mikhail on her own, grabbing his arms from behind. Charlie linked his foot around the man's leg and pulled, bringing him to the floor. Without his arms free to break his fall he hit his head and was knocked unconscious. Charlie grasped hold of Penny's hand and ran with her out the door.

As soon as they exited they chamber they knew they had been tricked. They had been running so fast they almost toppled over a metal railing with a two story drop. Charlie didn't know where they were, but they weren't on the island. It looked like an abandoned factory or warehouse, with a cavernous open floor and catwalks skirting the top. They were on an upper level, looking down on the decrepit building. Charlie chose a direction at random and took off, searching left and right for a place to hide, or for something they could use as a weapon.

At the end of the catwalk stood a large stack of shipping containers, and they dove around back of them, listening for Mikhail's pursuit. Crouched together in a tight corner, Charlie heard Penny gasp.

"What is it?" he whispered.

She brushed one side of the cardboard box with her fingers, removing the layer of dust, "Widmore Industries," she read. "I think I know where we are."

But Charlie was hushing her up because he had heard soft creeping footsteps. He raised his hands to show her what to do and then watched through a crack in the columns until the time was right.

Just as Mikhail reached the end of the catwalk and stepped in front of the crates, Penny and Charlie got up and pushed, showering him in a hail of filled boxes. Charlie's intent was to get back to the portal chamber. They ran back in the direction they had come.

They raced for the door only to see that it had been shut. Penny shook the handle and pushed but it was locked. They looked back. Mikhail was halfway up and almost ready to pursue them again. Charlie saw a set of stairs that led to a higher catwalk and he pulled Penny along, hoping to find something useful up there that would put their comrade out of commission permanently.

It was much darker up here, what little daylight shone through the filth encrusted windows cast its glow mainly on the factory floor. Charlie looked everywhere as they went, thinking as fast as he could move, so that he barely saw the gaping hole that had been rotted through the catwalk floor until he was right on top of it.

He and Penny grabbed each other at the same time and tried to stop their momentum, with the result being that they fell backwards. Penny's legs were dangling through the opening with Charlie sprawled beside her, gripping her by the arms. He helped her out and then sighted another small storage nook and had an idea.

Piled in a corner were gray canvas tarps, almost the colour of the dirty wood floor planks. Charlie took a tarp and covered the hole, then he stood several feet back in the shadows but remained in plain view.

"What are you doing?" asked Penny.

"I'm hoping he finds us," said Charlie and just as his words escaped, they heard the pounding of heavy shoes racing in their direction. It was too dark to see his face but Charlie imagined a look of triumph on Mikhail's face at having cornered his quarry, Charlie and Penny's silhouettes discernable in the far distance.

If there had been enough light, Mikhail would have seen Charlie's smirk and known that something was wrong.

Mikhail's foot hit the canvas and he dropped straight through the hidden hole beneath like a missile from a bomber plane. There was an angry yell and a crash, and then silence.

Charlie turned to Penny, "I saw that in a cartoon once. It works!"

"C'mon," said Penny, leading him back carefully around the hole and back to the portal door.

"So where are we?" asked Charlie as they walked.

"An abandoned factory outside London that belonged to my father's company," she said. "This must have been the original location of the portal, before Mittelos took it over."

"Mikhail must have slipped Keans a message," Charlie reasoned, "telling him to get rid of us. The mad Russian came along to finish the job. I knew we couldn't trust them."

"Charlie you were right," said Penny, looking pained. "I'm sorry."

Charlie sighed. "I didn't mean that. You couldn't have known," he reached for some words that would sound reassuring. "You're still our one hope for rescuing everybody. You can still get to your father and stop that ship. Maybe you can convince him to save everyone after all."

"I still think our odds would be better if we could get to the island," she said. "Maybe even rescue them ourselves. You're forgetting how determined everyone is to keep the island a secret."

They reached the portal room, still locked. Charlie kicked it in frustration, and then allowed his eyes to roam over the surface. He examined the numerical keyboard next to the handle and thought it looked familiar.

"Penny," said Charlie, "Do you have that copy of the station plan with you, from the Looking Glass?"

"Yes," Penny dug into her bag and brought out the small folded piece of paper. It was a reduced copy of the plans she had seen in the Hanso offices.

Charlie looked all over, then smiled and muttered, "No. Could it really be that obvious?"

"What?" asked Penny, looking over his shoulder at the place where earlier she had seen the words '_time/space portal #1 to S. Pacific location.'_ She had been so happy to find a location at last that she had failed to notice what appeared to be a code Charlie was now pointing to below the word _portal_.

_GV/CG _

"GV…CG?" said Penny. "Whatever does that mean? Someone's initials maybe?"

But Charlie knew. He turned to the keypad and started singing in a comical falsetto as he punched in the numbers. _"I wish they all could be Ca-alifornia Giiiirls…"_ There was a click and Charlie turned the handle and opened the door.

Penny was shocked. "How did you know?"

"The code on the other end was Good Vibrations," he said, pointing to the letters on the paper. "That's 'GV'. Somebody likes the Beach Boys."

Penny shook her head in amazement and they entered. She examined the controls. There were very few buttons and they were clearly marked so she was confident she could figure it out. She wanted to go with him, to see Desmond, but she knew that someone had to operate the controls and since she was back in London she'd be able to contact her father easily from here about the ship.

Charlie was about to enter the chamber when she stopped him. "Wait!" Penny said. "This is the original destination of portal #1. That means its going to put you back into the flooded station. You can't…"

"I have to try," he said. "We have no other way to get there. There was a broken window where the water rushed in. I'm going to try and swim out."

"Charlie, I…" Penny started to protest.

"I have to," he said again, holding her by the arms. "I'll be all right. I'm going to find the second portal on the island and get everyone off through it. But in case I don't…for whatever reason…you need to stop that ship. Okay?"

Penny nodded. "Okay. Good luck."

He smiled. "I'll see you again soon."

As he spoke there was a thundering crash from outside. They turned and ran to the door. A group of security guards had broken down the loading door and were rushing inside. Penny could hear a set of footsteps already on the stairs coming towards them.

Penny turned to Charlie with a look of panic. "Quick! Get in the chamber!"

Charlie ran for the chamber and Penny activated the controls, hoping to God she was doing it right, fighting to keep her trembling hands steady and her mind focused. Outside there were gunshots. The portal began to hum, but there was still no flash of white light. Charlie stood in the chamber, anxiously bouncing up and down in his spot.

Just then the door burst open and Mikhail ran inside. Penny screamed and hit the transport button just as Mikhail leaped for the chamber door and threw himself inside toward Charlie. Penny saw Charlie raise his hands in alarm and then there was a brilliant flash and she shielded her eyes.

When she recovered she went to the chamber and looked inside. Charlie was gone. And all that remained of Mikhail was his lower half.

It had been perhaps the fifth time that he had seen Charlie die, but this time it was real, so real in fact that Desmond had sensed his own heart rate slow along with Charlie's as the young musician floated away from the chamber door. Desmond felt paralyzed; his throat constricted, unable to tear his eyes away so that he actually thought he might expire along with his friend out of pure empathy. He had failed, and what a spectacular failure it was.

Never had it felt so wrong to be right.

He was in such shock he couldn't even cry. He didn't know what to do because it seemed so cruel to just turn and leave. After all he and Charlie had been through together, it felt like abandonment, like his job was still unfinished.

In a way it was. '_Not Penny's Boat'_ had been Charlie's dying message. He had used up his final seconds of precious oxygen to deliver it rather than trying to escape out the porthole. _Or did he fail to escape because he had been told he had to die,_ came the taunting voice. Desmond pushed it aside and focused instead on Charlie's last words. It would be up to him to give his sacrifice meaning.

He might have been imagining it but Desmond was sure he had seen Penny on that screen. He had run as fast as he could, but Charlie shut himself in, no doubt with the ironic intent of saving Desmond's life. His friend had spoken to her for a few brief seconds, before Mikhail's grenade had exploded and Charlie's world came crashing down around him.

He could barely see Charlie now but he could tell he was no longer moving of his own accord. He was floating backwards towards the opposite wall of the chamber, the murky green ocean water taking him in its frigid embrace, his outline blurred and less defined as if he were vanishing from this world bit by bit, tapped of the strength to remain solid. As Desmond stared he wondered whether if he took the diving equipment and swam around to that porthole, he might just be able to get Charlie's body through it and bring it back for a decent burial. Charlie's friends deserved that closure at least, though it felt like cold comfort to Desmond.

Desmond turned reluctantly and retrieved an oxygen tank, strapping it on with the diving mask and inserting the mouthpiece. As he worked he kept his mind blank, because he knew that if he allowed a stray thought to creep in it would strangle him, preventing all functioning. He stood at the edge of the moon pool, averting his eyes from the bodies of the two women who a short while earlier had been Charlie's tormentors. None of that mattered now.

He prepared himself, but before diving, Desmond turned back and glanced over his shoulder one last time. When he did he was nearly thrown off balance by an intense burst of white light coming from the small communications chamber. Desmond pulled out the mouthpiece and ran back to the door, looking inside.

He couldn't see Charlie anywhere.

Of course the window was very small and he had only one narrow view of the room. He couldn't account for the flash but Charlie's body could have floated just beyond Desmond's visual range. Quickly he replaced the oxygen and dove into the water to investigate.

Feeling his way, he swam in the direction of the outer porthole, hoping it was as wide as it seemed. He reached it and peered in, the larger window giving him a full visual sweep of the walls, floor and ceiling. The chamber was empty. Desmond couldn't understand it. He spun and did a quick scan of his surroundings in the unlikely event Charlie had floated right out the window but saw nothing. For the second time he was paralyzed, not knowing what to do.

A second flash, much like the first, burst again from the chamber. Desmond shielded his eyes from the light and then looked in the room again. There was no way he could have missed it before. Where there was only water there now appeared two figures, or, more precisely, one and a half. Mikhail's head and upper torso floated grotesquely in the water, arms up like a hand puppet, cleanly sliced in half, his lower part nowhere to be seen. _The mad bugger must have blown himself up with his own grenade,_ presumed Desmond.

His intended victim on the other hand, was not only intact, but _alive_.

Charlie was flailing, eyes wide, paddling frantically towards the window where Desmond was looking in. Desmond reached in and grabbed Charlie's arms, pulling him through. When he was free he wrapped one arm around his friend's waist and rocketed them both upward where the sunlight just barely shone through the surface.

They broke through together, Charlie gasping and coughing as Desmond towed him in the direction of the outrigger, still moored by the cable. It was only when he had lifted him up into the boat's hull that Desmond noticed another bizarre occurrence.

Charlie had at some point changed his clothes.

He wore an unfamiliar striped pullover and bright olive khaki trousers, as different as could be from the worn t-shirt and jeans he had on when he had gone into the chamber to unjam the signal minutes before. Not only that, but he also had shoes and they looked new.

Desmond was developing quite a long list of questions for himself as he waited for Charlie to catch his breath.

"Charlie," he began, unable to stand it any longer, "what the bloody hell's happening?"

Charlie was still panting, clutching his side and shivering, but at the sound of Desmond's distress he looked up and grinned. "I came back to rescue you, brother. Oh, and Penny says hi."

"_What_?!" he yelled, reaching out and grabbing Charlie by the shirt, surprised at his own anger at Charlie's idea of a joke. "You think that's _funny_?" he growled. "I saw you die! Where did you get these clothes? What happened to you?"

Charlie fell back, alarmed by Desmond's outburst. He put his hands on Desmond's and unlatched himself from the man's clutches. "Hey, easy Des. Calm down, you're rocking the boat."

Desmond released his friend and they both sat up and held the outrigger to steady it before it let in water. He stared at Charlie as if he were an apparition, wanting to touch him again to make sure he was really there. Charlie was alive, and this time Desmond hadn't done anything to save him, but something surely had.

"I saw…there was this light…and you were gone…but you drowned…how did…?" Desmond sputtered.

Charlie smiled again to reassure him. "I'll explain everything, I promise, but we have to get back to the beach. There's this ship coming and its bad news. We need to get everyone off the island."

"And how exactly are we going to do that?" Desmond asked.

Charlie's smile returned. "The same way I did."

_A time/space portal,_ thought Desmond. Well, who was he to argue about the likelihood of such things, seasoned time traveler that he was. Over the past month, his skeptical side had taken a sound beating and no longer would he dare say that anything was impossible. Clearly, something extraordinary had happened to Charlie, there was just no other explanation for what he saw. He had foreseen Charlie's death all right, but never would he have correctly interpreted what came next. He didn't see that coming at all. It was indeed as if the hand of God had swooped down to spare Isaac. It was enough to restore Desmond's faith and give meaning to all the crazy things that have been happening to him.

As they towed themselves back to shore by the cable, Charlie had told Desmond everything. Desmond beamed at the news about Penny. She had never given up looking for him and in fact was out there still, just on the other side of this snow globe he was trapped in. He had to get to her. One way or another once they found a suitable portal for escape, Desmond would make sure he was the first one out. Charlie warned him the travel was risky, and Mikhail had provided a stunning example of the results of a failed transport, but Desmond didn't care. Charlie had risked his life for the ones he loved and Desmond felt inspired, almost reckless. Penny was doing all she could to make contact, and it would be Desmond who would complete the connection.

He wasn't surprised to learn that her bastard of a father was declaring war on the island. He had tried everything to keep them apart. Desmond wasn't so arrogant as to think this whole conflict was about him, yet he now understood that he had been steered toward this island deliberately with the intent of making him vanish. It made him all the more determined to get back, propose to Penny and see the man's face when she said yes.

Charlie and Desmond reached the beach and climbed out of the boat. Charlie staggered a bit onto the sand and sank to his knees, taking deep breaths. Desmond watched out of the corner of his eye as he pulled the boat in from the water to dock it. Immediately they were met by a throng of castaways that had clearly been anxious for their arrival. Jack was in the lead, followed closely behind by Claire, Hurley and Sayid.

"You did it, man!" said Jack, holding out his hand to Charlie and lifting him up. Charlie smiled although he swayed a bit and looked slightly green. Next to him Claire glowed teary-eyed with a mixture of pride and enormous relief. Hurley was laughing out loud.

"Well done, both of you," said Sayid, smiling.

Desmond noticed Charlie's pained expression at the accolades as for the moment only he knew the truth.

"Jack," Charlie began, "that ship. It's not here to rescue us."

"What are you talking about?" said Jack. "I spoke with them myself when you opened that channel for us. They said they were on their way."

"They're not who they say they are," said Charlie. "It's hard to explain but trust me. They're coming to attack the Others for what they did to the Dharma people. This island is the world's best kept secret, and they want to keep it that way. They're not going to bother to sort out the good guys from the bad. There's another way off the island and we have to find it before they get here."

"How do you know all this?" asked Sayid.

"Penny Widmore told me," said Charlie. "I was with her, off the island. It's her father that's sending that ship. She's in London right now trying to stop it and I came back to help everyone escape."

"You were _off_ the island?" asked Claire, shaking her head. "How did you…"

Charlie looked at her. "Through a time/space portal. There's one in the underwater station but it's flooded. There's at least one more on this island and we have to find it."

There was a stunned silence as half the group tried to work out for themselves what Charlie was talking about and the other half wondered whether he was in his right mind.

Hurley was the first to speak but he most likely represented them all when he said, "What's a…time…space…whatever?"

Jack was studying Charlie with a critical eye, and Desmond had the feeling he was questioning Charlie's story along with his sanity.

"Charlie, are you feeling all right?" Jack asked. "You don't look good. Maybe you dove down there too fast. I know the oxygen levels can…"

"Jack, I'm fine!" Charlie protested, perhaps a bit too strongly because it was true he didn't look at all well. "I mean, not exactly…but it's the _portal_ not the…" He stopped, took a deep breath and tried again, "Look I'm telling the truth. I really _did_ leave the island."

"Dude, maybe it was one of those near death experiences," began Hurley. "My uncle almost died on an operating table one time and he dreamed he went to heaven…"

"Jack, it's true," said Desmond, cutting Hurley off. "I saw him. Charlie was in a flooded room, drowning, then there was this flash and he was gone. When he came back, his clothes had changed…"

"Oh, and I had a proper shave," said Charlie, rubbing his cheek, remembering. He turned to Desmond, "That posh bird of yours stays in some nice hotels, Des. It would have been a right holiday if Mikhail hadn't followed me there and tried to kill me again."

"I don't think we'll have to worry about him anymore, brother," said Desmond, patting Charlie's shoulder, remembering the severed Russian in the chamber.

"You were _drowning_?" asked Claire, alarmed. "And who's Mikhail? Charlie…"

Claire's reaction to this unsettling news was bad enough. Desmond was relieved at not having to be the bearer of worse. He got the sense that Charlie sheltered her quite a bit from the horrors of the island and his own personal dangers. If Claire had only known how close Charlie had come to not being here with them at all.

Charlie turned to her, "I'm okay Claire, but I'll explain later. We don't have much time. We have to find the other portal."

To Desmond's relief, Sayid appeared to have accepted enough of what he was hearing to suggest they move forward.

"We should ask Juliet," Sayid said to Jack. "If she doesn't know we'll get Ben to tell us."

Jack nodded and the group turned to head back to base camp.

"So wait, we're all just gonna like…beam out of here?" called Hurley, following. "No, this is all too weird…"

Hurley stopped himself when he saw Charlie take two steps, grab his head and fall forward onto his hands and knees. Everyone stopped to look back when Claire gave a yelp. Desmond went to him but Hurley was the closest and helped Charlie back up.

"Dude, are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

Charlie leaned into Hurley, closed his eyes and let out a breath. "Yeah, I just got dizzy all of a sudden. I think all this bouncing about the planet is starting to catch up to me."

Jack took Charlie by the shoulders. "How many times did you travel through this portal?"

Charlie thought. "Three I think. I was in Portland, then London…it was about two days…"

"But Charlie," said Desmond, "I saw you leave and come back. You weren't gone for more than a few minutes."

"Whoa…" said Hurley. "I don't know about this…"

"Jack, if this thing is real, is it safe?" asked Claire.

"If it does exist I'd like to learn a little more about it and what it does," said Jack. "But if the danger is as big as Charlie says it is we may not have a choice. A single one way trip just to get everyone out of here should be safe enough."

"Not safe enough for me," muttered Hurley.

Desmond thought of Mikhail but stayed tight-lipped. They started to walk again and this time Charlie's friends stayed closer as he took a few tentative steps. Claire took him firmly by the elbow to steady him.

"Let me help," she said, in a tone that did not allow for refusal.

"Thanks, love," said Charlie as they walked. "It's good to see you again. I didn't know if I…"

"Of course you were going to," said Claire.

"I hope you weren't worried about me," said Charlie.

Claire smiled. "I knew you'd be okay," she said.

Charlie returned the smile, and to Desmond it seemed as though Charlie didn't care whether Claire was telling the truth or not. He watched them from behind, still in awe of Charlie and the sacrifice he had been willing to make for Claire, about which she had no idea. She was simply glad to have him back safe.

Penny stood gaping at the bloody remains on the floor, praying that Charlie had made it safely. She was still facing the chamber when she heard a voice from behind.

"Put your hands up and turn around slowly," it commanded.

Penny did exactly as she was told. Two men in riot gear stood before her, carrying rifles.

"This is private property," said one of the men. "Who are you?"

Penny raised her voice with a confidence she didn't quite feel. "Penelope _Widmore_," she said, indignant, as if these men were making the biggest mistake of their careers.

The younger of the two men actually flinched visibly and dropped his weapon. "Miss Widmore?" he said.

Penny knew she could safely lower her arms. Odd that armed guards should be protecting an abandoned factory, she thought, but of course she knew it wasn't the factory they were protecting. The time had come to put an end to this secrecy.

"I want to see my father," she demanded. "Right here, right now."

Charlie and Desmond retired to their tents to dry off and Claire insisted that Charlie lie down and rest before they left for any portal. Charlie tried to protest but it came out weak; inwardly he wondered how many more trips it would take before the aftereffects were too severe to even recover from. He supposed it was like donating blood, as too many times close together sapped the body of energy. He was exhausted, queasy and felt oddly detached from his surroundings, like he wasn't fully there. His time off the island began to feel like a dream, and if Jack suggested that he had been hallucinating one more time, Charlie might just have believed him.

As urgent as their situation was, there was nothing to be done until they got the information they needed from Ben, so Charlie took the opportunity to catch a short kip. Jack would handle it.

Jack had gone straight to Juliet, but he knew how badly she herself had wanted off the island, and was therefore not surprised at her ignorance. Sayid observed her closely, but her reaction was genuine. She was livid. Jack and Sayid didn't need to discuss what to do next because Juliet was already on her way to where Ben was tied to a tree. They simply followed her on her warpath.

With his arms pinned at his sides, there was nothing Ben could do to avoid the fist that flew at his face. This was not the first time he had been at the business end of Juliet's rage, and his mind raced to prepare a response to whatever she had to accuse him of.

"You miserable worm!" she shouted, as Jack and Sayid flanked her, calmly observing. "There's a way off this island and you _know_ it! Where's the portal?"

"I don't know what…" started Ben.

"Don't bother!" cried Juliet, slapping him. "For three years you've kept me from my sister, with promise after promise after lie! I never understood how I got here, why I had to be sedated, but now it all makes sense. There's a time/space portal in the Looking Glass. I left from Portland, was sent through it to the island and put on a submarine for a short ride to the docks. When I woke up all I knew was that I had been on a sub."

"Juliet, it was the only way…" said Ben.

"It's not the only one is there?" she said. "You've always known it. Those people on that ship, they're coming for _you_, and we're leaving. Now you're going to show us where that portal is and how to use it."

Ben seemed flustered for the first time; his eyes darted between the angry faces of his captors. Jack wondered if this was one secret he had hoped no one would discover. He was fuming over Ben's deception. The sub had been little more than set dressing, Jack realized. It was never their ticket to freedom, but now the charade was over.

"You promised to send us home on that sub," Jack said, putting it all together. "You led us both to believe that the submarine was the only way off the island, and that when Locke destroyed it we were stuck. But it was just another lie!"

"You people don't understand," said Ben, pleading. "All I ever wanted to do was protect the island. This place, it's special. There's magic here, I know you've seen it. There's still so much to study, to learn. But once that ship gets here it will all be over."

"I don't care anymore," said Juliet, voice cracking. "I just want to go home."

"Where's the portal?" asked Sayid.

"Do you want me to draw you a map?" asked Ben, with a hint of sarcasm.

"No," replied Sayid, smirking. "I remember the last time you did that, 'Mr. Gale'. This time you're going to take us there yourself. If you are lying, we won't have to travel all the way back to make you answer for it."

Sayid turned to Jack. "You and I will alert the camp. We will prepare to leave in thirty minutes."

Charles Widmore thought he had prepared for every contingency, but he was not prepared for the news he received about his daughter. He had been in his office when the call came in that Penelope was at the location of the abandoned portal and was demanding to see him. _That means she knows,_ he thought to himself. _Clearly she knows about Hume. _Widmore hoped that the extent of his daughter's knowledge ended there. In the grand scheme of things Desmond Hume was quite insignificant.

He arrived at the former shipping plant and made his way up the stairs to the small, secret room. He himself had forgotten it had existed. He had allowed the chamber to be housed in his factory years ago but he considered the mode of transportation to be another whim of Hanso's, one that he himself never fully trusted. He preferred more conventional methods of transport.

"My dear Penelope," he began, as he entered the chamber to find her seated but visibly tense. The guards discreetly stepped outside. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I know about the island father," she began. "All of it. I know about Desmond, about the ship and the crash survivors."

Widmore waited, sensing that she had only just begun. He refused to tip his hand until she revealed exactly what it was she wanted from him. If all she desired was her Desmond back, the Scotsman could easily become a simple bargaining chip well worth the trade.

"I want you to stop that ship," she said. "Call off the attack."

_Ah,_ thought Widmore, _here it was._ "Penelope, the island is not your concern. That is a business matter of my own. As for your Mr. Hume…"

"Does your business include murder?" she accused, rising out of her chair. "There's no use denying it, I've already told you I know everything."

"We are trying to control a situation that has deteriorated into anarchy and at the same time protect our investment. There's no need for you to become involved in this. If its Desmond you want, come home with me and we can discuss it over dinner," he said.

"You can dress it up however you like," she said, "but I know what you're doing. You virtually kidnapped Desmond and marooned him there just to keep him from me. For three years I searched for him. Then I learned that there are innocent people on that island, forty plane crash survivors that only want to go home to their families. I know because I met one of them."

Widmore was not going to ask how she had managed this but he suspected the portal had something to do with it. He looked at his daughter, with the same obstinate stance that she would take as a child when she saw an injustice, and for an instant he saw her mother and he smiled.

"Do you love me, father?" she asked him, tears in her beautiful sapphire eyes, very much like the ones he had fallen in love with another lifetime ago.

"More than anything," he said.

"You're a powerful man who's done great things," she said as she approached him. "I know this is something that has gone horribly wrong for you, but you can turn it around and make it good. You have the power to do something truly great and be known as the man who brought the survivors of flight 815 home."

He smiled at her, remembering the little girl whose biggest concerns in the world were the monsters under her bed. He never stopped wanting to make the monsters go away for her. When had he become one?

"When you were six you once told me that I was your hero," he said.

She crossed the final gap and took his large hands in hers, remembering the father that protected her and always made her feel like his princess.

"Be a hero again," she said.

The entire camp was on the move again, but this time they were all together. There was no one left behind waiting in ambush, no one sent away on a suicide mission. They were migrating as one for what they hoped was the last time.

Desmond had come round to check on Charlie before they left. Despite having slept, he didn't look much better, and Desmond wondered whether another trip through the portal so soon would be good for him. He himself was prepared to make the trip however, provided it took him to where Penny was.

Charlie was putting on a brave show of it, helping Claire to pack a bag of essentials and bundle Aaron up for the trip, but Desmond noticed that he was moving slowly.

"Will you be able to make the trek, brother?" Desmond asked Charlie.

"Sure mate, no problem," he muttered, not quite making eye contact.

Charlie held Aaron easily and they were on their way. Desmond smiled when he saw Claire take Charlie's hand as they walked. She was so glad to have him back that it was clear she had feared the worst while they were gone. Desmond didn't want to even think of what would have become of her had Charlie not returned from the Looking Glass station. The thought alone was too tragic to contemplate.

Ben was leading them back across the island towards the Others' camp. Sayid told Desmond that it was where Jack had been held, and where they lived. The journey took an entire day, and Desmond wondered whether the ship had arrived at their beach yet, wondering where everyone had gone. It was still unknown whether the ship was friend or foe, so it was best to lay low and avoid being found.

At last they arrived at what looked like a summer retreat complete with bungalows and walking trails. Ben led them around the back to a large, one story structure surrounded by a chain-link fence. When they got inside, they group moved down a long corridor until they stopped at a door at the end.

Ben turned to Jack. "Here we are."

"So tell me about this thing," said Jack. "How does it work?"

"One of the many mysteries of the island, Jack," he said. "It's the only reason it does work, we don't know how. The technology doesn't exist for it to work anywhere else, but as long as one end is connected to this island, you can transport virtually anywhere."

"Show me," Jack said, pointing at the door.

Ben opened the door and went inside, followed by Jack, Desmond, Charlie, Claire and Hurley. Everyone else waited out in the hall.

"This is the control panel," he indicated to the switches and monitors, "and the transport chamber is behind that door on the right. So who wants to go first?"

"Wait," said Hurley, eyes wide at the equipment, "how do we know where we're gonna end up?"

"You only have a few options," said Ben. "I hope you're not too picky."

"Well, what are the chances of ending up on another island like this one, or maybe somewhere…worse?" Hurley asked.

"There is no other island like this one, Mr. Reyes," he said. "So do you want to go or not?"

Charlie came forward, pointing at the controls. "Can you use that to communicate with another station?" he asked Ben.

"Do you have one in mind?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Charlie, "the original Dharma portal in the Widmore factory. See if you can contact Penny Widmore."

Ben frowned and sat at the controls. Desmond thought it was obvious that Ben wasn't going to make this easy for them. He was glad that Charlie knew more about the portals than the rest of them did to beat Ben at his own game. Desmond watched closely from behind Ben's chair, his eyes trained on the monitor, willing Penny to appear.

After several minutes, there was no response. Desmond turned to Charlie, "Are you sure she's still there?"

Charlie nodded. "She should have been waiting to hear back from me, unless something happened."

Ben turned around in his chair, "Looks like nobody's home."

Without confirmation that they would be received on the other end, no one wanted to be the first to volunteer to go. Desmond knew Charlie would, but he was reluctant to send his friend through the portal again just yet. If something had indeed happened on Penny's end, she might need his help.

"I'll go," said Desmond. "I'll transport over, check it out and then send a signal back that it's safe."

"Are you sure?" asked Jack.

Desmond pointed to Ben. "Can he be trusted to work this?" he asked Jack.

"Do you have a choice?" asked Ben.

"Yeah, he does," said Charlie. "I'll work the controls. Get up."

Ben rose and stepped aside and Charlie took the seat. The controls were identical to the ones in the factory. The outgoing transmission light was still flashing, unanswered. Charlie thought of Penny and hoped everything was all right.

He turned to Desmond, "Get in the chamber, mate, and stand still. It's going to feel pretty strange, but it only takes a few seconds. Try and find Penny. See what she's managed to do about that ship and report back. We'll wait until we hear from you. Good luck."

Desmond nodded. "All right, I'm on it."

Desmond stepped into the small room and closed the door. He wasn't sure which direction to face but he didn't think it mattered so he turned and faced the door, like in a lift. He could admit to himself that he was frightened, but the thought of Penny there to receive him on the other end gave him strength. He wasn't going to let his friends down either. He was going to take this risk to save everyone, and he would do it for love. It was his destiny.

Penny stood watching while her father spoke on his mobile phone to the captain of the ship. "You are authorized to rescue the survivors of Oceanic flight 815. That is your new mission. I am sending you a copy of the flight manifest. Account for as many passengers as you can, provide them with whatever they need for the return journey. You may rescue Desmond Hume as well. Leave the rest behind. Their own people can deal with them."

Penny told her father about Mittelos Bioscience and their Portland headquarters, hoping it would help. "Now that you know the company that's responsible for this takeover, I hope you can settle things in court, or at least peaceably," she had said.

They were about to leave when the panel behind Penny began to hum. She turned and noticed there was a transport in progress. By the time she reached the chamber it had completed. She opened the door.

He stood with his arms out for balance, dazed expression, but even with the bushy beard and shoulder length hair Penny knew it was her Desmond. With a cry she ran into his arms, nearly knocking him over.

"Desmond! I don't believe it!" she exclaimed. "Did Charlie send you? Did he make it all right?"

"Aye, he's fine," said Desmond, holding her in a tight embrace that he never thought he'd feel again. He pulled back and put his hands on her face, drinking in the sight of her. "You're as beautiful as ever."

He leaned in and kissed her all too briefly. There was so much to say, but it would have to wait. There would be time for that now, but first there was a rescue to attend to.

"The survivors were all with me, waiting to transport," he said, still holding on to her, not wanting to ever let go. "But is it the safest way? Some of them are nervous, I think Charlie's been back and forth one too many times and Claire has a little one…"

Penny raised her fingers to hush him, "Its all right love. You can tell them all that the ship has come to rescue them, thanks to my father."

She indicated outside the chamber door where Widmore stood quietly, pretending not to notice that the man he had banished had returned and was now kissing his daughter. Desmond came forward, still holding Penny's hand. His first impulse was to attack him for all he had done, for the years of his life he had lost, but he had to be prudent, and for now Widmore was still the man with the power to save his friends. He couldn't risk messing that up.

He swallowed his pride and stepped forward, a bit unsteady on his feet. He began to understand why Charlie had been ill.

"Sir," he said, extending his hand.

Widmore looked down at it, and then at his daughter beaming at him. He reached out and accepted Desmond's hand in a firm shake.

"Welcome back, Hume," he said.

Desmond didn't quite know what to say but he knew it was the best reception he could have expected. The silence was terribly awkward, so he turned to Penny. "How do I use this thing to send a message back?"

She led him to the control panel and sent a transmission to the island. She smiled when Charlie's face appeared on the screen.

"Oi! Penny! You're there!" Charlie exclaimed. "Did Desmond make it?"

Desmond leaned in towards the monitor. "Aye, I'm here brother. You don't have to transport. The ship is going to take everyone. You're rescued! Get back to the beach and meet that ship."

He heard a tremendous cheer from behind Charlie and knew that his message had been received loud and clear.

"Des, that's great! We'll see you soon then," said Charlie. He was about to end the transmission when he turned back and shouted, "Oh! Wait! Penny!"

Charlie indicated to someone on his right outside the frame. Penny watched as a lovely little blonde girl came on the monitor, smiling and holding an infant.

"This is Claire," said Charlie proudly, "and this little guy's Aaron."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Penny. She thought back to what Charlie had told her and her heart filled with joy knowing that their turmoil was over.

"Thank you," said Claire with an Australian accent, bursting. "Thank you so much for rescuing us."

Penny glanced over her shoulder at her father, who was watching the monitor with interest, trying not to appear moved at the sight of the jubilant young woman and child, but Penny knew better. He had come quite close to ordering their deaths.

"The credit goes to my father," Penny told Claire, "and to your Charlie. He's very brave."

Claire looked at Charlie and smiled as Charlie blushed.

"Thanks Penny," Charlie said. "Thanks for everything. Don't let her go Desmond."

"I won't pal," he said to his friend. "That's a promise."

Penny watched the exchange and felt an enormous debt of gratitude to Charlie. If not for his willingness to return to the place of his torment Desmond might never have made it back. Penny knew he had done it for his Claire but she sensed a unique friendship between Charlie and Desmond as well. Some experience had bonded them, something she might never understand. She hoped that when Charlie and Claire returned they would meet again.

end


End file.
